


Oh Come All Ye Faithful

by hermionesmydawg



Series: you belong (to me) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Christmas Party, Collars, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Light BDSM, M/M, Natasha Romanoff is a part-time dominatrix, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Bucky Barnes, she used to platonically beat the shit out of bucky and he liked it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8767108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermionesmydawg/pseuds/hermionesmydawg
Summary: Bucky knew the routine - Steve had been taking a Shibari class and using him as a test subject at home, so he stood at attention with his hands behind his back, letting Steve wind and twist and tug the Christmas lights around him. Glass lights, to be exact. Of course. "You ever wonder what our mothers would say?""What?""Spending Christmas in a BDSM club instead of at Mass."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tis the season to be kinky.

Who knew sex clubs could throw one hell of a Christmas party?   
  
The scent of pine filled Bucky's nostrils as soon as he and Steve entered the lower room of the 8th Circle. It reminded him of his first life, of uncoordinated sex in European forests and the idiot from Brooklyn that he'll love until the day he  _ actually _ dies. Red and green bulbs hung from the ceiling and banisters, casting a warmer glow than usual over the beautiful debauchery this evening. Most everyone had on their Christmas best.   
  
Well, except Bucky. He was wearing sparkly green shorts and had a remote-controlled plug up his ass. Classy.   
  
"Hey, look." Steve placed a hand on Bucky's neck, guiding him to the center of the main floor.    
  
They rarely ventured into the pit but Steve was pushing so Bucky let him. When he realized what Steve was so excited about, Bucky rolled his eyes. "Really?"   
  
"Where's your holiday spirit?" Steve grinned and shoved him towards the special holiday display. Rolls of red rope, tinsel garland, and Christmas lights awaited them, just itching to get strung up on the club's favorite submissives. "Ah nice, the lights plug in!"   
  
"Of course they do," Bucky grumbled. He knew the routine - Steve had been taking a Shibari class and using him as a test subject at home, so Bucky stood at attention with his hands behind his back, letting Steve wind and twist and tug the lights around him. Glass lights, to be exact. Of course. Fucking sadists. "You ever wonder what our mothers would say?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"Spending Christmas in a BDSM club instead of at Mass?"   
  
Steve grunted at the low-key kink shame. "There's a priest here, at least."   
  
"Yeah, with his girlfriend  _ and _ boyfriend."   
  
"If God can forgive him, he can forgive us." Steve eyed the remaining length of light strand and let it fall to the floor. In a surprisingly tender move, he cupped Bucky's chin and gave him a sweet kiss. "I don't know what they'd think or say. I can only  _ hope _ they'd be happy that we're happy."   
  
"You going soft on me?" Bucky teased. "They have medicine for that, ya know."   
  
Steve glared and pulled him towards the elevator. The second floor was much more subdued than the first, and usually where the two of them chilled out together here. He waited for the hiccup and rise to begin before he mumbled. "You're the worst sub ever."   
  
Bucky shrugged, or, attempted to shrug. "You keep telling me that, and yet, you keep me around."   
  
"No idea why." When the elevator stopped Steve rushed over to an empty table.   
  
Steve was a little off his game tonight. Anxious or distracted, Bucky didn't know. He carefully sat at Steve's feet, that being the proper thing to do and all. Resting his head on Steve's thigh, he looked up at him with sad puppy dog eyes. "No idea at all?"   
  
"Well. You are awfully pretty." Steve smiled and petted Bucky's hair. If Bucky could purr, he would. He rested peacefully against Steve's leg, watching the people around them. Sometimes he wondered about other people's relationship dynamics, if it was just a game or if they honestly lived every aspect of their lives in this world of dominants and submissives.   
  
He liked when Steve gave him a hard time for being a little shit. Sometimes, he thought, he wished he would do it more often. Sure, Bucky was doing Okay, but life was a little easier when nothing was up to him. When Steve took his role a little more seriously.   
  
Something red and flashy caught his eye, sending a frightening tingle up his spine. "Oh shit," Bucky said. He squirmed on the floor, nudging Steve's knee.    
  
"What?"   
  
Bucky nodded towards the elevator, with Natasha fucking Romanoff stepping out of it in a goddamn sexy Santa suit. Red leather bustier with fluffy white trim, red leather pants tucked into black thigh high stiletto boots, and of course, a hat. Instead of a bag of toys? A whip.   
  
"Oh shit," Steve echoed, whistling lowly. "I am  _ so  _ bisexual, wow."   
  
She headed towards them with a wicked smile. Bucky dropped his head, avoiding eye contact. Fuck. Instinct. Sometimes he couldn't help it.   
  
Okay but seriously,  _ the whip _ . He could live forever without her fantastic cleavage but no one worked a whip like she could. He whimpered softly but Steve and his stupid fucking ridiculous hearing noticed anyway.   
  
"Aww," Steve teased. "Does someone miss his Mistress?"   
  
Bucky gritted his teeth. He should answer. They're in the club, he should be a good little sub, dammit. But who was he kidding - he's not good - so he kept his mouth shut.   
  
Steve nudged his thigh. "Answer me."   
  
"Sorry, sir," he grumbled. "But I can't help it, she's just so  _ cruel _ ."   
  
Steve chuckled and stood up to greet Nat, giving her a kiss on the cheek. His hand slipped into his pocket, flipping on Bucky's vibrating plug for just a couple of shuddering seconds. Steve could be cruel too, in his own little ways. "Merry Christmas," he said as if he wasn't torturing his boyfriend. "You look sinfully hot, by the way."   
  
"I know," she replied. The tip of her whip dangled in front of Bucky, occasionally tapping his knee. He grunted. Pouted. Sighed.   
  
Natasha asked Steve, "What's with him?"    
  
"He misses you," Steve answered. He sounded much happier about that than he should have.   
  
"That's adorable."   
  
"I thought so, too."   
  
The whip twirled in front of Bucky's face. Loop, loop, loop, like an infinity symbol. He kinda sorta liked it when Steve talked about him as if he weren't right there next to him.   
  
"May I?" Natasha asked. Bucky's head whipped to attention.   
  
Steve shrugged. "He's not very obedient, have at it."   
  
Loop, loop, loop, then the leather crawled over his skin like a snake, circling around his neck two - no, three - times, tightening just enough to make his breath catch in his throat. "Feet," Natasha ordered.   
  
Bucky's lucky he's graceful as fuck because most people wouldn't be able to jump to their feet with their arms bound by Christmas lights. "I dunno, Steve, seems pretty obedient to me."   
  
"Self-preservation," Steve rationalized. "He needs to breathe."   
  
Gotta love how calm these two asshole doms could be when Bucky was a few centimeters away from seeing stars. No seriously, he really loved it. Oxygen was way overrated.   
  
Natasha tugged on the whip, bringing Bucky's face almost down to her eye level. "Tell me, щенок. Have you been naughty or nice this year?"   
  
Goddammit, Bucky couldn't stop himself. He whimpered again. "Naughty, барыня. So naughty."   
  
With a dramatic eye roll, Natasha smacked him on the cheek. She twirled the whip, releasing him from her clutches. "You really should put a leash on your pet, Steve."    
  
"He's not going anywhere," Steve said confidently, crossing his arms over his chest. As he moved to stand next to Natasha, Bucky had a beautiful vision pop into his head - what if Steve... _ and _ Natasha -   
  
Steve snapped his fingers. "Don't even think about it, Buck."   
  
Bucky frowned.   
  
"You said it yourself, he's not very obedient to you." Then Natasha snapped her fingers. "Come to me, James."   
  
Listen, Bucky may be a masochist. A submissive who likes to be degraded and praised in the same sentence. A complete and total little shit. But. He wasn't stupid. He turned his gaze to Steve, who shook his head no. So, Bucky did as he was told. "No, Mistress."   
  
"Ha ha." Steve grinned, holding his hand out palm up. "Pay up."   
  
These two. They're really assholes. Sneaky, tricky assholes.   
  
Natasha huffed, then pulled her necklace over her head, taking care not to muss her hair. "You break it, you replace it. Bleed on it, decontaminate it. Fuck on it, burn it."   
  
A key shimmered in the red and green lights, dangling from the chain in Steve's hands. Holy shit. The key to Natasha's dungeon.   
  
Merry fucking Christmas.   
  


* * *

  
  
Of course, the first thing Steve did in Natasha's dungeon was plug in Bucky's lights. After a minute or so the bulbs started to burn, just a little, enough to cover his arm and chest with a prickly sensation. He looked ridiculous, but pretty.   
  
Meanwhile Steve looked around in awe at Natasha's toys. Bucky realized Steve had probably never been in here, never had so many tools at his disposal. "Are you drooling?" Bucky asked.   
  
"Little bit," Steve admitted. He reached for a riding crop with a shiny black and red shaft and soft leather keeper, twirling it with his fingers.   
  
"Maybe," Bucky started, "maybe don't use that one. It's her favorite."   
  
"Why?" Steve tossed it in the air, catching it by the handle. He pressed the keeper under Bucky's chin. "You worried I'm gonna break it?"   
  
"Well, yeah," Bucky answered. Obviously. Steve breaks everything. "You fucked me so hard that you broke your bed. The first time you used a flogger you busted a hole in your wall. Do I even need to start talking about your motorcycles?"   
  
Steve flicked the crop on Bucky's thigh. He barely flinched. "Shoosh."   
  
Bucky licked his lips, trying and failing to cover up a smirk. "Yes, sir."   
  
He expected another hit to his thigh, but Steve turned on his heel and replaced the crop on its shelf. "Believe it or not..." Steve said. He fingered some of the other tools wistfully. "I actually didn't come down here to beat you."   
  
"Oh. She's kinda squicky about bodily fluids, so maybe just blow jobs? Less mess.”

Steve snorted. "I didn't bring you down here to fuck you, either."   
  
Well, then. Bucky panicked for a minute, a second really, but then he remembered that this was Steve making these plans. What could go wrong?   
  
Oh God, this was  _ Steve _ , planning  _ surprises _ , everything could go wrong.   
  
"Are we in a scene?" Bucky chewed on his lower lip. "If not, the yuletide bondage is a bit much."   
  
"But you look so festive."   
  
"I'm in booty shorts with a plug in my ass and -" And Steve was unwrapping his lights.  _ What the fuck _ . "Did I do something wrong?"   
  
Steve concentrated on the strands of lights. "No, you didn't do anything wrong."   
  
"Then what the fuck?" Ten minutes ago Bucky thought maybe he'd get a top twofer for Christmas and now he's getting nothing?   
  
"I have something for you." The lights fell to the ground and Steve pushed him to his knees. That was a little more like it. "I know some people like to do this in front of an audience but I'm giving you the chance to say no without one."   
  
Oh dear baby Jesus, Steve Rogers was not about to propose to him in a sex dungeon. No. No no no. Bucky closed his eyes, panicking just a little. What in the hell was Steve thinking? Making an honest man out of him? A spring wedding? Probably a spring wedding.    
  
Something brushed against his neck and Bucky snatched Steve's wrist just as he heard the snap behind his ear. He gulped, his adam's apple straining against hard leather. A collar.   
  
"Oh thank God," Bucky sighed. Steve looked down at him expectantly. "I thought you were gonna propose. Shit."   
  
Steve quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously? Baby steps, Buck."   
  
"I know, I just." Bucky traced the fingers from his right hand over the collar, jostling the tag. "What does it say?"   
  
"Just Bucky." Steve shrugged. "And the back says 'if lost return to Steve.' Just in case."   
  
"Like I'd let myself get caught if I ran away. Please."   
  
"Fair point." Steve squatted so they'd be at eye level. "So, it's okay?"   
  
Bucky grinned. He couldn’t keep his hand off the damn thing, might not stop touching it all night. "You kiddin'? I fucking love it. Gonna wear it all the time. Can't wait to go to the market and get a rise out of Mrs. Lin. She has no idea I can understand every word she mutters about me when I stock up on lube."   
  
Steve shook his head, covering up a smile. "Hey," Bucky said. He grabbed Steve's hands, placing them on his neck. That seemed to break his nervous posture. He thumbed over the collar and straightened his back. "I'd tattoo 'Property of Steve Rogers' across my ass if I thought it'd get the point across better. I'm yours, ya big asshole. I love you."   
  
"Love you, too." Steve squeezed a little tighter than necessary. "Can't wait to show you off."   
  
"Hell yeah," Bucky squeaked. "But after the blow jobs, right?"   
  
Rising to his feet, Steve slipped two fingers under the collar. "Blow  _ job _ . Yours will have to wait."   
  
"Hmm. So good to me, sir." Steve dragged him by his collar towards the back wall of the room. Bucky's knees scraped across the wooden floor, jagged and worn out for this very purpose. Fuck, Bucky was flying high now. Steve was going to parade him around in his new collar and a killer hard-on for everyone in the club to see. Maybe if he was real good Steve would even mark him up first with one of Natasha's canes. Bucky choked on that thought just as an All-American dick forced its way into his mouth.   
  
Steve was a face-fucker, through and through, not wanting Bucky to do much more than provide a warm, wet hole for him on most occasions. This time he moved slow, tangling his fingers in Bucky's hair and stroking his cheeks while he filled his mouth so deeply that Bucky could barely breathe. It was good, Bucky was into that and could hold his breath for at least two minutes anyway so it's not like it really  _ mattered _ . But then Steve didn't move, just held Bucky's face tenderly as his cock rested deep in his throat.   
  
"I know what you need, right?" Steve asked, though clearly it was a hypothetical question. Bucky wasn't in any place to argue at the moment. Then Steve's fingers drifted from Bucky's cheek to his nose, pinching it closed. "I  _ give you _ what you need."   
  
Bucky's eyes widened. This was for him and only him, he knew. Steve could decide when he slept, ate, breathed, died, and he would thank him with his last breath. Foolish devotion maybe, or just a degree of trust that most would never understand.   
  
His eyes drifted closed peacefully as he waited, the taste and smell of Steve fading from his senses with each passing second. He didn't know how much time had passed, didn't really care, but his innate fight or flight instinct kicked in when the room started spinning despite his eyes being closed. It started with a sputter and a cough, then he was gagging and couldn't stop it. He needed to breathe.   
  
Of course at that moment Steve gasped and came down his throat because he was  _ awesome _ at adding insult to injury. Bucky thought he might actually choke until he realized his nose was clear. He could breathe and swallow, and probably wouldn't die right at that moment.   
  
"You with me?" Steve's voice sounded like it was a mile away. In actuality he was hovering over Bucky, laying him flat on the floor. "Buck."   
  
"Here," Bucky mumbled. He smiled goofily. Maybe he’d thought that little trick was just for him but apparently Steve liked it more than expected. "Just need a minute."   
  
"You got a little..." Steve slid his thumb along Bucky's chin, scooping some dribble into Bucky's mouth. "Too much?"   
  
Bucky laughed. "Hell no. That was amazing. You didn't even make me remind you for the thousandth time what my safe word is."   
  
Steve looked only a tad horrified at that realization but played it cool, like he definitely did it on purpose. He tucked himself back into his pants and spread out on the floor. "Yeah, well. Not like you could have said it anyway."   
  
"Jerk."   
  
"Your jerk," Steve said, flicking the Bucky tag on his collar. "I think I changed my mind. I wanna defile every surface of this room.”

"Yeah?" Bucky's neglected dick did a little happy dance. “I know where she stashes the wine. We got candles. Christmas lights, a cross, and an overall air of punishment. You know what I'm thinking?"   
  
Steve frowned. "Don't say it."   
  
Like Bucky listened, ever. He grinned at Steve's frown. "Take me to church, sir."   
  
"Jesus," Steve muttered, shaking his head with a resigned sigh. He dropped his mouth to Bucky's chest, nipping gently at a bulb shaped welt. "Adeste, Fideles."


End file.
